


Another Word for Optimism

by celli



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Ancient Gene, M/M, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-14
Updated: 2005-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-15 04:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/pseuds/celli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rodney has coffee, optimism, luck with Ancient tech, and absolutely no tact whatsoever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Word for Optimism

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://deannie.livejournal.com/profile)[**deannie**](http://deannie.livejournal.com/) for the beta, [](http://seperis.livejournal.com/profile)[**seperis**](http://seperis.livejournal.com/) for the cheerleading, and [](http://nifra-idril.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://nifra-idril.livejournal.com/)**nifra_idril** for everything.

It was an immutable law of the universe: Rodney McKay never woke up in a good mood. Never. The sun could shine, the birds could sing, the Nobel committee could nominate him, but he always woke up three steps from homicide. (Which was why the coffeemaker was two steps from his bed.)

On this particular morning, however, Rodney awoke to find himself almost...maybe...just a little...cheerful. He even smiled before he got to the bottom of his first mug of coffee.

"Good morning," he said to John, Teyla, and that new guy as he cut in line in front of them in the mess hall. "I actually think there might be something edible among the culinary horrors being served up for us this morning."

Teyla looked surprised.

"I know," he said, "I'm an incurable optimist."

John bumped shoulders with him and didn't meet his eyes. Rodney beamed at the nervous-looking soldier serving him.

"So how badly did you burn the toast today, Marine?"

***

His "optimism" carried him through the morning briefings, which he found slightly more bearable than usual, and into the lab, where he and Zelenka had been beating their heads against an Ancient brick wall for over a week now.

"The output level is negligible," Zelenka said. "The output level has been negligible all along. Trying to activate it again will only give us more negligible data. Why do you torture me so?"

"Let's try it again."

"Why?"

"I have a feeling."

"What?" Zelenka gave him the fish-eye, or whatever the Czech version of the fish-eye was. "Doctor Rodney McKay does not have feelings. He has improbable theories and impossible-to-prove hypotheses. He does not have feelings about anything except a good meatloaf with gravy."

"There's a lot to be said for a good meatloaf with gravy. But I digress. We're going to try the device again, Zelenka. And it's going to work. I have a feeling."

Of course, he could have asked John to wave his hand at the thing. But after the incident with the glowy thing with the highly advanced suction cups, he'd sworn on the pain of death to only bother the Colonel with Elizabeth's written permission. (It hadn't really been humping John's leg--that was just an anthropomorphic representation of a perfectly normal bone scan. Some people were so sensitive.)

Zelenka grumbled, but uncovered the breadbox-sized device. Rodney put his hand on it, thought as hard as he could--

And he'd be damned, the thing lit up like Christmas.

Zelenka just stared. Rodney grinned. This optimism thing was _great._

Then, of course, the thing sent out a pulse that disrupted all Ancient technology within several thousand feet and a bunch of people got stuck in transporters, but hello. Not the point.

***

Rodney was still riding the wave when John showed up to drag him away from the transporter repair to his weekly puddlejumper practice.

"All right, I'm entrusting all of you with the remainder of this repair," he said loudly. "I'll be in radio contact when you screw it up."

"Huh," John said as they walked away.

"Huh what?"

"Nobody tried to bribe me to lose you at sea."

"What do they normally offer?"

"The usual. Chocolate, illegally brewed alcohol, doing my laundry."

"Colonel, I'm touched."

"I'm holding out. They were almost desperate enough to kick Dr. Rickenbauer out of those prime living quarters, you know, with the sort-of hot tub, and give them to me. Don't set me back too far, Rodney, I already bought my bath salts."

Rodney grandly ignored him.

John didn't complain about his tendency to oversteer left once during the entire flight. Rodney wasn't sure if that was his optimism or John's, but either way, he was happy.

***

The next day, Rodney woke up homicidal again. The food was horrible, he was definitely catching a cold from somewhere even though no one else was sick, and the breadbox device took forever to shield so that it would only disrupt things they wanted disrupted and then didn't want to work anymore. Rodney went to bed homicidal, too.

***

It was a sad testament to Rodney's distraction that it took him a whole three rounds of optimism and lack thereof before he made the connection. But mid-briefing, it hit him.

"It helps the gene! Of course! I can't believe I didn't see it!"

"What helps the gene, Rodney?" Elizabeth looked confused--perhaps because they'd been discussing the weather conditions on the Alpha site, not his gene.

He pointed at John. "My gene works better after we've had sex!"

The silence following was rather remarkable in both its length and its quality.

***

"I know it's tempting, but you really shouldn't kill me," Rodney said after John had smiled blandly at everyone else in the room and "escorted" Rodney outside for a "discussion."

"Really?"

"Really. Look, those are the three people least likely to betray a confidence. Elizabeth's a diplomat, Teyla would never talk about someone behind their back, and Ronan, well, it's not like he ever talks anyway."

"Oh, I feel so much better."

"We have to focus on what's important here."

"Which is not your complete lack of discretion?"

"No, it's that I'm right!"

John, it turned out, could swear in Arabic. Creatively. At length.

Rodney waited impatiently until he was done. "We should really test it, you know. We need to know the exact effect. Oh, hey, I wonder if it increases the effect of the natural gene, too, or just the artificial therapy."

"And how do you propose we find that out? Hey. Hey, do not look at me like that."

"I know it sounds a little farfetched--"

"If you tell me to lie back and think of Atlantis, I swear to God I _will_ take you out and drop you in the ocean, do you hear me, Rodney McKay?"

***

For some reason, Rodney's gene went back to McKay-normal for a very long time after that conversation. Zelenka asked several times if Rodney knew what had gone wrong, but after the fifth rant on short-sightedness and the lack of team spirit among _some people_ in this galaxy, he stopped asking.

**Author's Note:**

> Podfic available at the Audiofic Archive: http://www.audiofic.jinjurly.com/another-word-for-optimism


End file.
